The Ever Fiend (Talon Stormbringer Book 1)

by Randy Ellefson

  Noren nodded. “The feel of this place is different now.”

  “How so?” Talon asked, though he sensed it himself.

  “An oppressive weight has been lifted. Perhaps we have an opportunity.”

  Talon fixed a hard glare on him. “For what?”

  “To reach the Black Tower and acquire its contents before anyone else does.”

  “The Ever Fiend’s lair?” Mikolyn asked, looking intrigued. “It is said no one comes out alive.”

  “That’s because of who lived there,” replied the sorelia.

  “You don’t know that’s the reason,” Talon observed. “Anything could be guarding it.”

  “True, but it’s plausible that with the Fiend and his minions dead, the way should be safer than at any other time. He could have set magical traps or something else still operational, but the risk is worth taking.”

  The Nyborian asked, “Haven’t you seen enough horror for today?”

  Noren smiled. “I’m sorelian, the source of horror, according to some.”

  “What’s inside this Black Tower?” the knight asked skeptically.

  “No one knows,” admitted Noren, “but if you were the Ever Fiend, ruling a vast land that’s capable of turning any magic item into something more powerful, and even able to turn ordinary items into something special, would you not create and stockpile a vast supply of them?”

  Jenar’s eyes lit up. “I agree the risk is worth it. Come, Talon, we can have the most powerful weapons and armor known to exist.”

  He removed the hand she had laid on his arm, noting that it felt oddly cool to the touch and his skin remained cold where she had touched him. “Being forced to drink that terrible elixir taught you nothing?”

  She shrugged. “I have cheated death.”

  “You do not know that. Something worse than death could be brewing inside you even now.”

  Jenar laughed vibrantly. “I feel fantastic. And if death, or worse, is already coming for me, then I must see this place first. Won’t you come?”

  “Entering a seemingly safe wizard’s tower landed me in this mess. I’d rather not repeat the mistake.”

  “Stormbringer has a point,” Dal admitted. “I say we return to Llurien.”

  Talon turned to the kryll. “Mikolyn?”

  Sighing, Mikolyn said, “I do not have what I came for, the elixir. In all the chaos at the pond, I had forgotten. Regardless, this opportunity is unprecedented. It is worth investigating.”

  Noren smiled triumphantly. “Then it’s settled. Even you, Stormbringer, cannot argue against majority rule. I have a general idea where the Black Tower is. We will have to search for it.”

  “No need. I know where it is,” said Jenar. Seeing surprised expressions, she added apologetically, “Don’t ask me how I know. I don’t know myself.”

  The sorelia pursed his lips. “It appears that drinking the silver elixir has given you some ability to navigate the Ever Pathways.”

  Scowling, Talon observed, “Which means she can lead us out and we don’t need you. Come, Jenar. Back to Llurien.”

  “Talon,” she said, putting a caressing hand on his chest this time, gazing up at him through long lashes, “do this for me. Your strength can keep us safe, if that is truly what you desire.”

  “My strength would not be needed if we left this place.”

  She took his hand, squeezing it affectionately while she led them toward the Ever Fiend’s Black Tower. Only the knight showed his reservations. No one had commented on his increasingly silver eyes. They seemingly knew the elixir’s effect on Jenar. Mikolyn showed no ill effects, but his wound glowed faintly as if light shone from within. To Talon, all three of them had been poisoned. Orin might have been the luckiest of them, dead as he was. The Nyborian glanced back, but no one seemed to be behind them.

  As they walked through field and forest, over hill and along another black river, Jenar commented on what lay before them and that each should be avoided for one reason or another. One forest had the dreaded Kona Leech plant, known for capturing people and keeping them alive while slowly drinking their blood for decades, except that here they fed on a victim’s soul. On the horizon at another point stood the Jhaikan Grave, a vast, haunted battlefield where thousands of the vicious species had been slaughtered, though accounts differed on just who, or what, had done the killing. And finally they saw a small town with guard towers, a wall, and something humanoid milling about the lone entrance.

  “That’s one of the places we should avoid,” Jenar remarked.

  “I thought everyone is dead?” the knight asked, squinting. “Maybe there’s something of use there.”

  She advised, “That’s not a place for the Fiend’s creatures. Those people you see over there are not under his control, which is why they’re still alive. We are not alone.”

  “Then we should avoid them,” Talon agreed.

  “Indeed,” said Noren, adding, “it’s unlikely that anyone but us few realize what’s happened and make for the Black Tower.”

  “It shouldn’t be much longer,” Jenar said, striding eagerly.

  “That you know all of these things is troubling,” Talon remarked. “How can we trust that you truly know the way?”

  “Stormbringer has a point,” remarked Dal, worry creasing his brow.

  “Perhaps,” began Mikolyn, “but she has identified places we’ve passed. Accurately, it seems.”

  “Indeed,” Noren said. “I see no reason to doubt her.”

  “You’re hardly without bias,” Talon observed. “I doubt you’d care where we end up next as long as we stay in Everland. You seem to have no desire to return to Llurien.”

  “Nonsense,” the sorelia replied. “I want the Black Tower’s contents more than any bauble, as you’d once described items that I can find on the Pathways. If I thought Jenar could not do it, I would not follow.”

  “But what makes you so sure she’s leading us correctly?”

  The karelia shrugged. “Nothing. But I have no reason to believe she is not. Do you?”

  When the Nyborian only frowned, Jenar grinned, not taking offense at his questioning. “Have faith, Talon. I’m indebted to you and wouldn’t risk your safety for nothing. You saved us all today.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Three of you drank and are already showing signs of something happening to you. And Orin is dead.”

  “Yes,” agreed Mikolyn. “I’ve been wondering why he simply perished and we did not.”

  Noren shrugged. “His cowardice likely killed him.”

  Dal flushed and replied defensively, as if the remark had been about him, “I doubt that was the reason.”

  The sorelia gave him a knowing look and grinned hugely, and Talon wondered. Did Noren know of Dal’s deal with the wizard? It seemed likely. He was Viland’s partner in some way that Talon didn’t understand. There was no telling what information he was privy to, but since the wizard and sorelia could choose who they sent into this place, it made sense that they chose together, using shared knowledge of the people they selected and whether they could be counted on or not. Or compelled to act one way or another. Noren probably knew things about each that the others wished he didn’t.

  The behavior of his companions had earned some of Talon’s trust, but given that three of them had been tainted, and the sorelia had been born that way, Talon now trusted none of them. Relying on only himself was probably best, but then there was the troubling reality that either Noren or Jenar had to lead him from this place. Now that the sorelia had what he had come for originally, he had no need of Talon. Maybe Jenar’s good graces were something Talon needed and he shouldn’t show too much concern for her loyalties, at the risk of offending her.

  Taking her bicep in one hand, and noticing how cold it was, he remarked casually, “I’m only concerned that you haven’t had much chance to test the reliability of your new sense. You seem confident, which is good, but maybe you’re being influenced by things we don’t understand
yet.”

  “You still have faith in me?” she asked playfully, leaning against him.

  He smiled reassuringly and let the matter drop. “Of course.”

  They resumed walking, a rolling evergreen forest standing to one side for a time. The trees soon ended in a grassland, where a tower of gray limestone soared into the stormy air. It seemed out of place, no trails nearby and no reason for it to be here, but then everything here was peculiar. A low stone wall surrounded it, a broken wooden gate swinging freely on the side closest to them. They stopped and looked to Jenar, who indicated they had to pass by it to continue on their way. By silent agreement, they intended to steer clear.

  As they approached, Talon saw the sorelia eyeing it curiously. “What is it?” he asked, hand on his sword hilt.

  Noren began, “I think this is the—”

  A woman’s scream made them stop. All eyes turned to the tower’s windows, from where it had come. After a glance at Talon that suggested this was a chance to redeem himself, the knight rushed forward while drawing his sword, shouting at them to help him save the woman, but no one else followed until the Nyborian took a step, too.

  “No!” the sorelia urged him, grabbing his arm.

  Scowling, Talon jerked free. “He can’t go in there alone.”

  “No one should go in there.”

  “Too late,” said Mikolyn ruefully, also advancing, his jhaikan-staff beginning to twirl casually as if he was warming up. Another scream split the air, sounding more terrified. Nightwish growled low in his throat.

  Noren yelled at the knight, “Do not pass beyond the wall!” But Dal ignored the warning and charged by the broken gate onto the charred grass surrounding the tower.

  “I think he might be right,” said Jenar to Talon, following him. “It’s better to steer clear, unless one of you can operate a Moon Gate.”

  That stopped the Nyborian. “A Moon Gate? What do you mean?”

  Nodding at the building before them, she remarked, “It’s the only way to enter the Vanishing Tower without waiting for it to appear before you. There’s one inside. We could use it to reach the Black Tower’s Moon Gate in seconds.”

  Talon arched an eyebrow at the sorelia, who nodded.

  “Yes, I can control one, of course. We’d have to hurry before the tower disappears.” He began running for it, the sack of weapons he had been carrying making a racket. Jenar smirked and ran, too, with a scowling Talon bringing up the rear, the great cat loping beside him.

  “Why would the tower disappear?” he yelled, seeing the knight bash open the door and fearlessly enter.

  But no sooner had he said it than the whole building, grass, and wall surrounding it began to shimmer. The kryll nearly stepped over the perimeter but stopped himself. Moments later, the place had vanished, with the knight inside.

  Chapter 6 – The Black Tower

  Talon’s knuckles were white on the sword hilt in its scabbard, his grim glare keeping the others from talking to him. Noren had explained that the infamous Vanishing Tower was unlikely to appear in the same place any time soon and that the knight was probably lost forever. He might escape the building, but if he did, he could be anywhere in Everland. They’d never see him again, it seemed, assuming he even survived. That glow in Dal’s eyes had Talon certain that the knight would never leave this place regardless. Still, he had wanted to help the doomed man, and even Jenar’s assurances that it was really Dal’s own fault for charging in there did nothing to cheer him. He wanted out of this place.

  Instead, they were headed for the Black Tower. If Talon could reach the Moon Gate there, he might still rescue the knight. He strode with greater purpose, nearly leaving the others behind.

  Along the way, they passed an Ever Gate—one of several they’d seen, light or dark depending on whether it was day or night on the other side. They steered clear, both Noren and Jenar saying it wasn’t the one which led back to the wizard who’d sent them here. Talon approached anyway and gazed out, seeing a seemingly impassable jungle lit by the sun, suggesting they must’ve been on the far side of the world.

  Within an hour, they crested a hill to see the Black Tower in the distance, obsidian walls glistening as if wet and oozing. Before it stood the Black Grove, which stretched toward them and from right to left a great distance, the trees still as death, not a leaf rippling. Beyond it all rose a wall of mist that Noren said came from the Misty Cliff on the far side. No one knew what lay at its bottom, and the fog obscured whatever stood beyond it, if anything. Aside from lights twinkling in just one of the tower’s windows, there were no signs of life.

  Or death.

  “Should we be worried that nothing appears to guard it?” Talon asked.

  Jenar said, “No. The trees do that.” At his dubious look, she smiled. “You’ll see.”

  He reached for his sword but she stayed his hand and led them onward. A glance at Nightwish showed the cat’s ears mostly forward but sometimes swiveling back or to the sides. The cat was on high alert and Talon had long ago learned to trust the instincts of animals. This one was made of stern stuff, for rumor had it that even battle-trained horses could not lightly be made to enter the pathways.

  They followed a path that led straight toward the grove, where Talon detected the faint smell of blood. Nightwish growled and the Nyborian pulled out his sword, noticing the lorenia lines on Noren’s face glowing softly. With the tall evergreens looming over them, all but Jenar stopped. The trees had black trunks and dark red leaves, which Noren eyed greedily. The karelia approached a tree as if to pull a leaf, but Jenar spoke like she had eyes in the back of her head.

  “Don’t.”

  The sorelia paused. “Explain.”

  “Take a leaf from the ground if you want, but unless you want to provoke the Linganore trees, I wouldn’t pluck one.”

  Noren watched her step on the path through the forest and sighed, following with the others. The turbulent sky disappeared as they entered the Black Grove, but they’d only gone twenty paces when the path abruptly ended. Jenar walked forward anyway, and as she neared the boles, they rose on their roots and shuffled aside, letting her through. She calmly suggested that her companions hurry and they closed the gap with her, none of them failing to notice the trees gathering behind them as if to cut off escape. The trees continued to part ahead and close behind so that the travelers walked in a perpetual circle of foliage. No one spoke, their wary eyes saying all that was needed.

  And those eyes widened when the trees parted once more to reveal a sickening sight. A thick, black branch hung over the path. A pulsating Kona Leech plant had entwined itself there, and in its grip lay a wide-eyed and staring man, his horrified eyes imploring them for help as the plant crushed him against the branch lengthwise. He appeared to be hugging it from beneath. One arm dangled toward the ground, the hand twitching toward them. The plant’s green leaves shone with luster, a pod-like nest enveloping its victim as tentacled vines gripped the Linganore tree. A few unoccupied vines seemed to sense the newcomers, for they unwound themselves and poised like snakes, one lashing out toward them.

  Talon had seen this before during an excursion with his father in Valley Wood. He severed a vine, which fell past him, oozing black ichor instead of the expected blood the plant usually drained from its prey. Not waiting for further attacks, he leapt forward with steel flashing and severed first one vine, then another. Striving to save itself, the plant tried to disgorge its victim, but it was too slow, allowing Talon to shear off a hunk perilously close to the man. The plant seemed to shriek as if alive. Unnerved, Talon waited a precious second for the victim to fall helplessly to the ground, giving him a free swing at the Kona Leech. With a clean stroke, careful not to strike the tree in case it, too, should join in attacking him, Talon cut the bloodsucking plant in half. As it landed, he made short work of the dying plant until a dozen pieces lay scattered around.

  Mikolyn went to the fallen man to help him up, but the plant’s victim shrank back, stari
ng in horror toward the group.

  “Ever...Ever...F-f-f-Fiend!” he stammered.

  The Nyborian looked back in alarm but saw no one but his companions. “The Fiend is dead.” He faced the man again but saw sightless eyes gazing into oblivion.

  “And so is he,” remarked Noren. “We were too late. That plant was feeding on his soul, not his blood as they do on Llurien. I wonder how long he’s been here.”

  “Long enough to go insane,” remarked Jenar quietly.

  “What should we do?” Mikolyn asked.

  “Behead him,” answered Noren. “And not dawdle.”

  Talon grimaced at the butchery he was about to do, but with a clean stroke he severed the head from the body. He wiped his blade on the man’s shirt and rose. Then he approached the trees, expecting them to part, but they did not. Then Jenar approached the boles, which shuffled aside while she flashed a grin at him.

  Nothing more happened within the grove. They escaped to the far side where the wide Black Tower soared a thousand feet into the stormy sky. An additional twenty-eight small towers rose a hundred feet up from the main tower’s side, each topped with a colored minaret. Their number matched that of the gods. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “There appears to be no way in,” remarked the kryll.

  Jenar nodded. “Not to most, but I know the way. There’s no ground floor entrance unless you know what to do.”

  Talon followed with his sword drawn as they strode up to the Ever Fiend’s home. He wondered what had happened to the companions of the Kona Leech plant’s victim. They hadn’t seen another such plant. Like some denizens of this place, did it, too, get here by accident? A grove of such creatures might be advantageous to the Ever Fiend, but then no one knew what the Fiend wanted, despite all the stories about it appearing on Llurien to steal this or that—often a living person, or so the bedtime stories said. Maybe the kryllan species knew, for they had an expert on almost everything in their ranks.

  Jenar stopped before the Black Tower and appeared to carefully choose a blank spot, where she traced a vertical rectangle with a small circle at each corner. Then she drew a line from one corner of the rectangle to the opposite corner, and another line connecting the remaining two corners. Inside the rectangle she drew a triangle, and where its three points touched the rectangle, she again drew a small circle. In the center of the rectangle, she drew a large circle. Once this part was complete, the pattern glowed silver, the invisible door on which she had drawn this diagram sliding upward to reveal only blackness beyond.